Mother preaches about forgiveness but hates her own son
The son she birth under the sun
Whose fault is it that his tongue became the gun that tried to destroy you?
I’m confused,
but I shouldn’t be mother
I’m just a child caught in the muse
Forced to take sides
Not strong enough to break the strifes
So I take long strides
My 6 ft 4 inch frame tries to run away
being knocked and paddled between walls of hate
And you’re ashamed?
Of me?
Of my actions because I refuse to take sides, oh please
Mother stop,
I’ve tried my best but it’s like you both are bent on locking me in this trap
The nightmares, how do I make it stop?
You see what you see
but fail to see what you should see
Blinded by the past hurt
Creating your own misery
Calling it destiny
But maybe we are destined to be a family
Can’t you see?
I like the thought of family
but we are divided thinking we are free
Conquered by greed and selfish needs
Makes me wish I could trade you all in for a new family.
The past is the past–
Let it be.
In 2016 let’s be a family.
More at https://handypoetry.wordpress.com.
